AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 23
The next season party arrived several days later. Marta mocked herself inwardly: it was true what Laura said. “How wretched that I have to wear such marvellous gowns and dance to such beautiful music and flirt and play such a silly game. How frivolous and wonderful that I’m allowed such an easy life.”
Since Laura’s admission of her new love, Marta had more-or-less allowed her off the hook with regards to her duties. She laughed to herself, remembering what her mother had said when Marta had stated she wanted Laura to come along to England with her. “Won’t you want to pick someone a bit older? Someone a bit more responsible? I can’t imagine that Laura will remain happy in England for long.”
Now, it seemed, Laura had set herself up for eternal happiness in England, sans the position of lady-in-waiting.
Still, during the final hours before this next party, Laura popped by Marta’s quarters to finalise her curls and make-up and fluff up her gown. Laura’s skin glowed as she chatted amicably about her most recent trek to the village to meet Matthew. “Malcolm has started to call him Uncle! Can you believe it?”
Marta laughed. “The relationship you have with Malcolm and Walter is far more powerful than the one they seem to have with their own mother…”
“Tatiana didn’t take to motherhood well, it seems,” Laura said thoughtfully, as she curled up the final blonde strands around Marta’s cheeks. “Every time she spots me, she hugs me and mutters how grateful she is that she’s allowed time to herself. I cannot be certain, but I think she’s having something of an affair of her own.”
Marta’s ears perked up. “You must be joking.”
“I’m not!” Laura returned. “Her husband is continually away on business, and she uses my services all the time. I imagine she must be up to something, in that big house all alone.”
Marta made a mental note to investigate what Laura suggested. When they finalised her look for the night, Laura dismissed herself and said she wanted to study English in her bedroom. Marta wished her well and then joined Ewan in the foyer downstairs. He looked a bit reluctant, almost fatigued, with his cheeks hollowed out. Since Marta and Baldwin had kissed one another against the garden wall, Ewan had kept his distance from Marta—as though he suspected and needed to take his time to contemplate his feelings. Marta had much empathy for his situation.
That was, of course, if what she suspected regarding his feelings for Baldwin was truthful.
Stranger things in the world had happened. She knew this to be true.
Ewan forced a smile and bowed in a mocking, playful way. “You look stunning as ever, my beautiful cousin. What on earth will I do with you? The moment we enter any ballroom across the county, all eyes are drawn to you, rather than myself. I dare say I’ll exit the season without so much as a bite.”
On the carriage ride, both seemed to fall into conversation topics that had nothing to do with Baldwin. Marta still recalled what Ewan had said about him: that he tried his best to avoid any events such as these. Still, she had more than an ounce of hope that he would make an appearance.
When they reached the estate, Ewan assisted her from the carriage. Around them were a hum of onlookers and party-goers, women in fine gowns, their glossy curls shining, and the men beside them formidable and tall and broad of shoulder and surly in gaze. Marta knew that she was a topic of much gossip, especially in the wake of what had occurred with the Duke. Still, she kept her eyes upright and connected with nearly each of the onlookers.
“Good evening,” she said to Penelope, the red-head who’d once courted Baldwin. “How good to see you once more.”
Penelope’s eyes skated back into the belly of the carriage just before Ewan closed the door. “I see that Baldwin hasn’t arrived with you,” she said.
Was it possible that this girl still held her own private hope that she and Baldwin could rekindle their previous quasi-romance? Marta prepared some sort of romance—something about Baldwin’s distaste for such affairs. But before she could spit out the syllables, she heard the great boom of his voice through the crowd. She turned swiftly to find him: deliriously handsome, powerful, several inches taller than the nearest man, with a swagger that nearly made her swoon.
“Good evening,” Baldwin said to the three of them. His eyes didn’t leave Marta’s for a moment. “I trust your journey went well.”
“I was just asking them whether you would make an appearance tonight,” Penelope chirped.
Still, Baldwin hardly gave her a moment’s notice. Ewan chuckled and said, “Two parties in a week! Baldwin, what will become of you? You’re devolving before our eyes. Soon, you’ll be twenty, then fifteen, then a mere toddler. Laura will have to look after you, the way she’s looked after the boys.”
Penelope blinked confusedly. Baldwin shrugged.
“I felt it would be a pity to miss out on more of the fun,” he said. “Besides. You know how much I love the music.”
Marta scolded herself inwardly and forced her eyes away from his. Their attraction was palpable. With so many onlookers, she felt ridiculous and fraudulent. An affair with Baldwin? It went outside the bounds of what her Aunt Margaret had set about for her. In fact, last night, Aunt Margaret had sat with her once more and forced her to recount as many things as she could about the Duke’s pompous words and previous conversation.
“We must study him. Know his mind,” Aunt Margaret had said, her eyes beady. “I don’t want to miss anything.”
Marta had played along, of course; it was her duty. Still, in the back of her mind, she tried to drum up some sort of possible way out.
When they entered the ballroom, Marta was shocked to peer directly into the eyes of the Duke, Lewis Remington, almost immediately. He seemed hunter-like, as though he’d perched directly there, towards the drink table, with his eyes on the grand doorway for a full sight of her. She forced a smile across her lips and felt Baldwin’s eyes scan her cheeks. A soft sound escaped his lips. Was it hesitation? Jealousy?
Still, Marta’s stomach lurched at the idea of dancing with the Duke. She turned swiftly towards Baldwin. His dark eyes connected with hers. “Would you like to have my first dance?” she asked.
“Nothing would make me happier,” Baldwin affirmed.
The moment the strings sprung to life and cast the couple onto the dance floor, Marta was conscious of the Duke’s glowering expression. He seemed filled with rage. Her feet kept up their rapid turning beneath her, matching Baldwin step for step.
